


Addicted

by Ravens_Ire



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Fey Jaskier, Fluff, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Possessive Jaskier | Dandelion, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24580966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravens_Ire/pseuds/Ravens_Ire
Summary: Jaskier narrowly avoids capture by running into the not so open arms of a stranger.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 284
Kudos: 875
Collections: Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development





	1. Weak

**Author's Note:**

> I love this pairing. Prob going to be lots of fluff in the coming chapters, this one is just to set up the plot.

He glided through the woods, tree branches parting in front of him and lacing together behind. He moved as a part of the forest and the forest accepted him as their own. Where his feet pounding against the wood’s floor should have been alerting his pursuers to his location, there was the softest of sounds as the twigs and pine cones were brushed away by woodland creatures. His feet left soft indents in the recently overturned earth which were quickly covered again as the creatures moved the forest’s litter back into place. He slowed to a stop as he reached the open glade in the forest, slitted eyes widening to soak in the last of the evening rays of sunlight filtering through the trees. 

A tall beautiful creature emerged from the other side of the glade and, upon making eye contact rushed over quickly to him and threw her arms around him. Her long flowing brown hair woven with twigs and leaves slipping around his shoulders, encasing them in a curtain. 

“Hello mother,” he murmured into her ear. 

“My sweet boy, did they follow you here?” She peered over his shoulder, sharp eyes penetrating the branches that had knotted together to protect them from sight. 

“Yes, we must be quick, has everyone entered the portal?” He pulled back and earnestly asked. 

“Yes, we are the only ones left. Come along Jaskier.” she grabbed his hand and turned, pulling him toward the large gaping maw of the portal, floating in the middle of the clearing. The void swirling black and purple, a distorted view of the pathway visible from this side. He planted his feet and forcefully stopped their march forward. 

“No mother, I must close the portal. You must return to the others. They will be looking to you for guidance. I shall remain behind and draw the wizards off. If we leave the pathway open they will surely find it and follow us into the beyond.” He insisted. 

“No-” but she was cut off by the sound of something hacking through the thick foliage. Murmured curses and the crackling sound of fire encasing the barrier of greenery came through the weaved vines and branches. 

“Hurry!” He whispered as he shoved her through the portal, her fingers brushed against his as she reached to try and pull him through with her, and then she was gone. He quickly gathered his magic in the tips of his fingers and wove the fabric of the portal closed. As it sealed shut and disappeared from view, he heaved a gasp of relief and slumped to the ground. Sweat beading at his forehead and muscles shaking with exhaustion. Creating a portal was far beyond his expertise in magic and closing a portal was barely within his power. Normally the full counsel would be responsible for both tasks but they were safely on the other side of the portal. Portals could only be closed from the same side they were opened which made them dangerous escape routes for the fey folk. The amount of energy needed to create, sustain and close portals was often not worth the effort as their enemies could easily follow them along the pathway. Even if the fey folk were willing to leave behind a portion of their group to close the portal it would have to be a couple of the nobility as the common fey folk did not have the magical capacity to alter the fabric of space and a noble was not powerful enough alone.

The fey prince attempted to stand on his shaky legs, they immediately faltered and his knees hit the earth once more. 

“Dammit!” He exclaimed as the sounds of breaking tree branches and the smell of smoke grew clearer. If he couldn’t outrun them he would have to hide in plain sight. Using what little remaining magic he had left he let the magic flow up his arms and spread across the remainder of his body, enveloping him in a tingling sensation. The magic seeped into his skin and he twisted it to manipulate his physical form. He only had enough magic left for a form that was close in resemblance to his own but he had to choose something that would be able to hide easily. His body shrunk drastically and his shoulders jerked back as wings sprouted from his shoulder blades. His transformation had just ended, leaving him the size of a plum but wholly unchanged with the exception of the butterfly wings hanging limp and dragging across the floor, when the final earthly blockage was ripped out of the way and wizards poured out through the opening. The newly transformed fairy dragged himself underneath a large fern and curled up, hoping they would be too ignorant about his powers to suspect transfiguration. 

“I know he went this way,” an old bent over man growled, his long white hair braided into his curling long beard swinging back and forth as he hurried past. Sharp eyes scanned the open ground. “This is an old fey gathering area, their magic is seeped into the ground. They must have opened a portal here to escape. But at least one must have remained behind to close it.” He thought out loud. He turned back to the five other men who had stumbled in behind him, breathing heavily with swords and flames in hands. “I would have preferred the whole colony, but we really only need one. If used right, a fey strong enough to close the barrier could be used as a source of energy for years. Split up and find him!” He yelled at the group. They scrambled to follow his orders. Two began scouring the ground for tracks while the other three formed a circle and gripped each other’s hands. Heads bowed forward to rest against each other in the middle, they began chanting. 

“ _Shit, they are trying to track me _,” the fey thought as he slinked back further into the trees. Once he was out of immediate sight, he turned and ran, beating his wings to give him speed. He was too weak to take to the air, especially since he had not taken a form with flight in a while and so he stuck to the earth. Trusting that the cover the low plants would provide would hide his mad dash from view.__

____

He hadn’t been running long when his strength began to flag and his vision began to fade. He was not going to make it much longer at this pace and he was sure the wizards were not far behind. Even if they didn’t have any of his personal possessions to track, his magic lay heavy in the area from closing the portal and it would not take them long to pick up his magical signature. He was careful not to use any more magic after the transformation, not that he had much left to use, but large spells required the caster to open the floodgates to their magic to get enough out fast enough to complete the spell and there tended to be...leakage...for a while afterwards. Cursing his weak limbs he forced himself to press on, desperate to find shelter that could hide him from the searching gaze of the wizards. His once pounding heart fluttering weakly as he drew on energy reserves that were held for the basic functions of his new body. He spotted a flickering of light at the edge of his vision and he used the last of his strength to move toward it. He caught sight of a large lumbering figure before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his vision faded to black.

____


	2. Infatuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jaskier falls for a Witcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! You all are amazing, thanks for reading this random story! I got into a writing kick last night so here's a new chapter :D.

Geralt sighed in contentment as he dropped down next to his low burning fire. The kindling he had gathered stacked haphazardly in a pile next to the glowing blaze. His weapons cleaned and himself...well...not NOT clean. He only had to wait for the lean rabbit he had trapped earlier in the evening to finish cooking before he could retire to his bedroll, full and at ease for the first time in days. He closed his eyes and leaned back against a nearby tree, feet crossed near the fire, soaking up the heat. Although it was well into summer, the trek through the forest had not been kind and he had to traipse through more than one river trying to find the road again. Not that he would have lost the road if the stupid, ugly, inconsiderate banshee hadn’t decided to take the coward’s way out and flee into the forest. He was still pulling thorns from his arms and burrs from Roach’s coat.

He was broken from his musings as Roach quickly lifted her head and looked around. Ears twitching toward the other side of the fire. Geralt also tipped his head to the side and focused, quickly pinpointing the crashing through the forest that had startled Roach. It sounded like a huge group of people blundering along in the foliage with no care for the creatures they might disturb. This either meant they were wholly incompetant and didn’t realize what creatures resided in this forest, or they were powerful enough not to care. In either case it was not to his benefit to stay in the area. If they wittingly or unwittingly brought the wrath of the fey down on their heads for their disrespectful treatment of the land or woke some sleeping beast with their heavy feet then he didn’t want to be around to be caught in the crossfire. No sense looking for trouble if he wasn’t going to be paid for it. With a few grumblings he began to pack up his few belongings to clear out before whoever was crashing through the trees could reach him. He was staring mournfully at his lovely fire, about to kick dirt into the pulsing embers when he saw something small stumble through the trees and collapse to the ground in a dead faint. 

Bewildered, he leaped over the fire and knelt down over the small creature. It appeared to be some sort of fairy. It was lying face down in the dirt so he could really only see the iridescent wings folded over the creature. The merrily crackling fire, seemingly cackling over its victory over its near brush with death, throwing light that danced across the wings making them shimmer. He gently nudged it onto its back with his forefinger. It had no physical response to his prodding but he could tell after revealing the face and body that this small creature was a rare breed of fairy. 

The mop of brown hair was common enough among their folk but the golden markings trailing down the face and along the arms was intricate and bore no familial signage he was familiar with. In addition, whereas most fairies tended to be mindless creatures, more beast than man, wearing whatever leaves they grabbed that morning around their bodies or nothing at all, this little man had carefully stitched clothing, blue and gold glinting up at him. He had heard of upper fairy life forms but he had never seen one himself. He thought they were just stories, travelers mixing tales of the winged fairies and the cunning fey together to create a new creature. He must have been mistaken, dismissing the rumors so quickly. Oh well, it wasn’t the first time he had been proven wrong about the existence of a creature and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

Roach stomping her feet reminded him of the ever approaching stampede. Now that he thought about it, this creature had come from the same direction and clearly was exhausted. It was possible whatever was crashing its way through the forest was after the creature. From what he knew of fairies and the fey, although they were devious tricksters who held a grudge, they did not tend to go looking for trouble. Deaths caused by the fey were often due to disrespect and ignorance shown by mankind for the magic folk. He could understand and appreciate retribution, even if he could not condone it. It therefore goes to reason that this creature most likely had not provoked this chase and was an innocent. He didn’t usually insert himself in these situations, but the crease of distress between the little fairy's eyebrows decided it for him. I mean, he wasn’t a monster, no matter what people said. And as protectors of the forest, the fey might just grant him a favor for his interference. His armor’s enchantments were beginning to wear off and he was taking a beating for it. He rolled his stiff shoulder that had borne the brunt of a mace a few days back when his shoulder pad shattered. Making a decision he gently scoped the creature from the ground and dropped it into the front pocket in his shirt, carefully arranging it so the lump of the body was not visible from the outside. The warmth from the small body heating up his chest, right over his heart. He picked up his sword and resolutely turned to face the group as they stumbled out of the trees upon his campsite. 

The leader came forward and eyed Geralt up and down. 

“A Witcher, how interesting…” he drawled, sounding completely bored. “Well Witcher, we are searching for one of the fey, have you seen any of the deceitful creatures come this way?”

A fey? So they were not after the fairy? It is possible the poor creature was just frightened away from the large racket the group was making. Or it was driven out of its home, he thought, eying the flaming hands of the wizards and swords covered in sap.

“I do not deal in fey, nor have I seen one.” He turned dismissively from the group. “Be on your way.” Only a fool would cross the fey. Their magic was far reaching and a slighted fey was not to be underestimated. The last Witcher who had taken a job against the fey ended up with his entrails spread across twelve different woods and his head delivered to the nearest inn with a leafy bow tied in the hair. It was an unspoken rule amongst his people, they were not to be trifled with.

The lead wizard walked forward and placed his hand on Geralt’s shoulder. “Are you sure? We could..make it worth your while.” He said, pulling two gold coins from his pocket and rubbing them together. 

Geralt jerked his shoulder out from under the wizard’s wrinkled hand with a growl and moved to crouch back by his fire, poking the coals to encourage the flames to rile once more, careful to keep his pocket housing the unconscious fairy out of the wizard’s view. Though they might not be after the creature, wizards have a nasty reputation for dismantling and grinding any magical creature they could get their hands on into a power or concocture of some sort and he wouldn’t leave the creature to that fate. 

The wizard sighed and slipped the two gold coins back into the pocket of his expensive silky robe. As he motioned the other wizards in his cohort forward, he turned to face the Witcher’s back. “If you see the fey, report it at the nearest village and we will make sure you receive your reward.”

Geralt stared steadfastly into the fire until the last sounds of the retreating wizards went silent. His rabbit now fully cooked, he slid it off the stick and started devouring the meat from the bones. As he was pulling the final morsel off the bones and licking the greasy fat from his fingers, he figured it was safe enough to remove the fairy from its hiding spot. Not wanting to crush the dainty creature, he cupped his hand and scooped it from his pocket. Making sure not to crush the wings as he lifted the light body into the soft glow from the fire. The creature’s limbs were limp and his face smooth in unconsciousness. It didn’t seem injured, just exhausted. He lightly brushed his finger against its face, trying to prode it awake. The creature’s face scrunched up and the eyes blurrely opened, blue pools staring at the finger that had awoken it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaskier woke up to a warm brush of skin against his cheek. He was sooo tired, he just wanted to sleep and his bed was so warm and plush. He stretched and tried to pry his eyes open, expecting to see his mother or one of the servant's retreating form. When he saw the massive hand holding him up, everything came rushing back. The adrenaline that had settled during his unconscious bout came rushing back, pumping through his veins, bringing him quickly to attention. His eyes flashed to the side to see an enormous finger quickly approaching him once more. He grabbed the offending piece of flesh and sunk his sharp teeth into it, ferociously biting down, driving the fangs further into the skin until he could taste blood gush into his mouth. He could hear the large man swear as his forefinger was ripped open. Jaskier flinched, remembering he was resting on the stranger’s hand and he was about to be flung off or perhaps smashed by the giant. He was surprised when the palm he was resting on held steady. He reopened his eyes that had been squeezed shut in anticipation and glanced up. His eyes connected with large orange orbs and his soul was set alight. It was as if his heart both stopped beating and beat too fast all at once. It was a dizzying experience. The world’s color became sharper but at the same time faded away in the wake of the sight of those orange eyes, boring into his soul. He was the one. His one.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geralt should have expected the assault. Fairies were not known for being gentle creatures and this one had obviously been terrified out of its wits when it had collapsed. He swore and shook the damaged hand out while careful to keep the other hand the fairy was resting on steady. He wasn’t sure how functioning the fairy was at the moment. If the dark circles under the eyes were any indication, the fairy probably didn’t have enough strength to fly at the moment. After the instinctive attack the creature flinched and closed it’s bright blue eyes, bringing up its forearm in a defensive position in front of its face. When no retribution was forthcoming, it opened its eyes and looked up at Geralt. It froze for a second then its entire demeanor changed.

It reached out with its hands and pleading eyes towards the bleeding finger, cooing. Geralt carefully brought his finger back within reach, ready to pull it quickly away if this was some sort of trap. The fairy just wrapped its arms around the finger, making concerned noises and nuzzling its head against the finger. It placed its forehead gently against the wound and it rapidly began to disappear. The wound knitted itself together before his very eyes. He was amazed. Few creatures were able to heal and even fewer creatures used this rare blessing upon those outside their own race. To be healed was a sign of ultimate trust as healing required extreme concentration and left the wielder out of sorts right afterwards, vulnerable to attack. The fairy swayed and stumbled backwards. Gerlat cupped his hand to support the unsteady creature. As he suspected, the tiny thing didn’t have enough strength to be using that sort of magic. Feeling the fingers curled behind its back the fairy turned and cuddled into them, burying its face into the finger pads before drifting into sleep. 

Geralt was stunned by the whiplash of emotion. This went against everything he knew about fairies. Notoriously selfish, elusive creatures, they avoided humans like the plague. This fairy’s initial reaction was more in line with expectations than its rapid attitude change. It looked like it had been about to cry when it saw the blood.

Bewildered, Geralt just shrugged his shoulders and repocketed the confusing creature. He was going to be in the forest for a few days yet and he would just release the creature once it was well enough to fly off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluff begins next chapter muHAHAHAHAHHA. It is mostly written so will prob be released soon, maybe in a few hours?


	3. Mixed Signals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt is hopelessly out of his element when dealing with Jaskier. This is why he travels alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone who has stuck with this story so far is splendid! Fair warning, this chapter has a lot of fluff and not a whole lot of plot. More plot to come later.

It had sounded like such a simple uncomplicated plan. He was not ready for the handful the creature was proving itself to be. Early the next morning when he had finished saddling Roach and was just about to swing himself up onto the horse, he heard a muffled tinkling noise and a head popped up out of his pocket. The mop of brown hair stuck up wildly on one side, and the fairy was rubbing his eyes with one arm while yawning into the other before peering up at Geralt.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Pretty,” he sighed, looking up at the large Witcher in adoration before scrunching up his face in discontent. There were scratches across the Witcher’s face and arms and his hair was a mess, half of it twisted into a messy braid and the other half hanging limply with what looked like dried blood crusting some of the locks. This would not do. No one could see his mate so disheveled. It would reflect badly on him, he could and would provide. He quickly scrambled out of the pocket onto the Witcher’s shoulder and couldn’t help himself from nuzzling into the man’s cheek before placing his hand on the light scratches and closing his eyes in concentration.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geralt was patiently waiting for the creature to make its move, having learned his lesson yesterday. The creature just stared up in adoration. Its eyes reminded him of a cat’s, pupils wide and sparkling, ringed by deep blue. It chattered in a high pitched tinkling and then scurried out of the pocket and up his shoulder cuddling up to his face. When it placed its hands on his face and closed its eyes he quickly pushed the creature away, remembering the light scratches he had all over his body. He wanted to get rid of the creature, if it kept passing out he would never be free of it. It looked up at him offended, eyes quickly welling with tears. It reached halfheartedly out towards the cheek again, twittering hopefully. He quickly scoped it off his shoulder and deposited it again in his pocket, careful to keep his fingers away from those sharp teeth. It curled up in the pocket and sulked, wiping tears from its eyes and every once in a while throwing accusing looks up at Geralt. 

Geralt carefully avoided eye contact, knowing a guilt trip when he saw one, and urged Roach onward. It wasn’t long before he felt the fairy shifting around. He supposed it was trying to get comfortable so he was surprised when it lunged out of the pocket and scurried up his vest again. This time depositing itself on his head instead of his shoulder. He tensed and waited, for what he wasn’t sure. His shoulders relaxed when he felt the creature carding through his hair. He knew his white hair was strange amongst any species and it must just be curious. He left it up there to its own devices. The stroking motion through his hair was very soothing and he almost drifted off a few times, jolting awake when his head would nod forward and the fairy would squawk in indignation, clutching tight to the hair to avoid being thrown off. 

By the time they stopped for lunch Geralt was almost liquid in his seat. It wasn’t like he avoided touch, it just didn’t ever seem to be freely offered. Roach was about the most impersonal creature on the planet and did not appreciate affection in the form of anything but a ripe apple. As for people, they pretty much avoided him unless it was to drive him out of town or hire him. The few bed partners he had were either bought or Yennefer, who was about as frigid as ice and was definitely not a cuddler. So could anyone blame him for his response to the constant gentle combing through his hair?

As he heavily dismounted, he could feel a body sliding off his head and onto his shoulder. He reached up to feel at his hair, expecting it to be tied in knots or something else nefarious but was surprised when his fingers glided through it like silk. It felt liquid and soft and he could feel a complicated tight braid replacing the sloppy one he tied himself each morning, if he remembered. 

He glanced down surprised at the creature who was just babbling at him, chattering and cooing at the strand of hair within its reach, braiding in what seemed to be a bead onto the end of the strand and grinning up at him. 

“Um..Okay.” He said, settling himself down against the tree with a groan and pulling out some of the rabbit jerky from the night before. He could feel the fairy’s stare boring holes in the scabs on his face but it didn’t reach forward to heal them again.

Not sure what fairies ate, he offered up some of the jerky, if only to get the spiky gaze off his face. The blue eyes, now slits in the noonday sun, considered the jerky for a while before taking a small piece and squeaking, in gratitude?, at him. It chomped messily at the jerky, working its way about halfway through the piece before slowing. It stared almost mournfully at the piece of meat before holding out the rest to Geralt. Surprised, Gerlat just pushed it back into its hands. 

“No, that is for you.” The fairy bit its lip and offered the meat once more. “No, it’s a gift, it’s for you.”

The fairy’s head jerked up and it starred at Geralt in disbelief. It reverently pulled the meat back into its lap and stroked at it, cooing under its breath. Confused, Geralt wished he had spent more time studying the species. He could only hope he didn’t just offend the creature or sell his soul or something. Nothing to be done about it, he quickly finished up his meat and got to his feet, walking once more toward Roach. Careful in his movements so as not to knock his passenger off his shoulder. The rest of the ride was passed in relative silence, the fairy just staring down at the piece of meat like it held all the secrets in the world. Geralt had hoped it would have eaten it but if it kept it distracted for the rest of the journey that was okay with him. 

When he settled in for the night he cobbled together a bundle of blankets and deposited the fairy in the makeshift nest, he didn’t want to risk rolling over and squishing it in his sleep. The fairy was still clutching the piece of meat to its chest and Geralt sighed. He wondered if there was some way to somehow replace the meat with something less...perishable. The fairy still looked tired, even after spending the day dozing on and off and could probably use the sustenance. 

While the fairy curled up with its piece of meat, Geralt went to the river they had stopped near and started looking. From what he could remember about fairies they liked shiny objects. He sifted through the stones in the shallow riverbed, not exactly sure what he was looking for. Nothing catching his eye he ventured a little deeper, overturning the larger stones with his bare feet. He glanced back at the campsite, seeing small eyes peering at him curiously from the heap of blankets. He turned back to the river...there! A slice of sunlight had hit a stone and it sparkled underneath the water. He leaned over, twisting his head to the side to keep it above the water as he blindly groped for the stone. He ended up soaking his entire arm and most his torso by the time he pulled up the correct rock. It appeared a dull dark color but when held up to the sunlight veins of blue sparkled in the stone. It was about the size of his pinkie nail and he hoped it was a good enough trade. He squelched his way over and knelt down.

He offered the stone to the fairy who just looked at it with longing, fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out and snatched it but kept at its side through sheer willpower.

“Its a gift.” These must have been the magic words as the fairy snatched it out of his hands faster than he could blink. Turning it over and over in its hands. Rotating it in the sunlight and squeaking each time the light hit a new vein. The piece of meat lay forgotten in the bottom of the nest and Geralt slowly reached in to grab it. With lightning speed the fairy snatched up the piece of meat and hissed at Geralt backing away. Cradling both treasures to its chest it curled protectively around them in the corner. Well this isn’t how he expected this to go. He rubbed his hands over his face in exhaustion. 

The creature seemed to understand at least mostly what he was trying to communicate so maybe he just needed to make his intentions clear. He moved so he was in front of the fairy and said “The meat is food, it was a gift meant to be eaten.” He mimed eating food, just to make his point clear.

The fairy just stared blankly at him. Either these words were not in its vocabulary or it was being purposefully ignorant. 

“Food. You eat.” At this he pointed to the meat and then to the fairy’s mouth. It stared at him for a long time. He could see its eyes shifting back and forth, obviously deep in thought. Finally, it brought the meat to its mouth and took a bite and chewed slowly, like it was being tortured. It slowly consumed the meat, eyes pits of sorrow, growing deeper as each piece was swallowed. When the meat was gone it just stared despondent at the ground, clutching at the stone. 

Now what had he done wrong? He just caught the fairy’s eyes and slightly smiled. “Good.” The fairy responded with a watery smile of its own and turned to curl up with its back facing Geralt. Maybe if he found more gifts it would forget about the meat? Eh, that was a tomorrow problem. He retreated to his own bedroll and quickly drifted off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got an idea in mind for how I want the rest of the story to go but am open to suggestions if there is anything you all would like to see in the story! :D


	4. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt decides his fairy companion is well enough to take care of itself. Chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I love and appreciate all the comments and kudos! I was planning on this chapter being longer but I have about a thousand ideas and I am trying to organize them into some legible shape or form. So I have rewritten the second half of this chapter like 5 times and currently still have nothing. Anyways, hope you enjoy the short chapter!

He awoke to those small hands carding through his hair again, he stayed still and kept his breathing slow so as not to startle the creature. He was almost asleep again when he realized he could no longer feel the tugs at his hair, he stretched and pulled himself to his feet. He reached behind his head to inspect his hair. The braid he had was different from yesterday’s, just as intricate but it seemed to be braided in a different pattern. Instead of three strands there were two, looping back and forth between each other in a staggered knit. 

It was when he ambled over to wash his face in the river he noticed something was different. It took him a few seconds of staring but he realized the cuts on his face were gone. He quickly scanned both arms and they were smooth as well. That sneaky little bastard! He turned back and glared at the fairy who was distracting itself by flitting up into the trees and piling its findings onto the forest floor. Already a huge pile of berries and fruits of different types were sitting next to his bedroll. The healing must have been done late in the night as the fairy didn’t seem any worse for the wear. If anything, it looked full of boundless energy. Not wanting to upset the creature again, he left it to its gathering and went to pack up the campsite.

Now knowing what to look out for, when he offered meat that morning he gave about double what he had yesterday. Sure enough, when about half the meat was gone the fairy offered the remaining back to Geralt. This time, he took it back and ate it, staring at the fairy out of the corner of his eye to judge its reaction. It just turned to the berries and began eating one from the pile. It didn’t seem offended that the remaining meat was not offered as a gift. The stone he had gifted the night before was nowhere to be seen. It’s possible the fairy was more childlike than he had originally concluded. Rapt fascination with an object one day and completely uninterested the next. The fairy shook out its wings and flitted to the top of Geralt’s shoulder, landing lightly and curling into the knape of his neck. Settling down for the day’s ride. 

This put him in a tough spot. Geralt didn’t know how to let the fairy down gently. It was obviously recovered enough to travel on its own and gather its own food. So it was time for it to go. He stood there for a few minutes mulling over the best way to rid himself of the creature. It patiently sat on his shoulder, swinging its feet back and forth and making some sort of gesture at a crow flying past, laughing when the crow made a sharp turn and tried to land on Geralt’s shoulder as well. He quickly rid himself of the bird and sighed, he wasn’t one for carefully laid plans or trickery. Plus, he doubted he could sneak away from it, Roach wasn’t exactly quiet, trained for battle, not subtlety. 

He plucked the fairy from his shoulder and placed it on a nearby stump. It quickly inspected the stump, looking for anything of note, before looking up at Geralt in confusion. “Stay,” he instructed, palm held up for emphasis. The fairy just happily plopped down on the stump and started pulling up the tall grass nearby, weaving them together into a long thick strand. This was going to be easier than he thought. He turned and mounted Roach before feeling a light weight settle again on his shoulder. The fairy just chattered happily at him and started weaving the thick grass strand into his hair. Leaning back to inspect its work and finding it worthy, slide down his chest into its normal place in the pocket.

He sighed again. Turning the pocket inside out into his palm he dismounted once more. He stuck the fairy on the same stump except he pointed to it when he said stay and himself with a resounding “Leave.”

He could tell the message had gotten across because the fairy looked like the ground had dropped from underneath it. It shook its head frantically and tried to fly back up onto his shoulder, but he dodged its attempts. It landed back on the ground in defeat. 

The second its feet hit the soft floor it turned and yowled into the woods. He heard a low rumbling and the ground began to quiver. Animals of varying sizes appeared from all directions carrying and dropping items at the fairy’s feet. They seemed like a random collection of items from within the forest. The smaller animals (rabbits, chipmunks etc.) brought pinecones and berries, the birds shiny objects obviously plucked from caravans passing through the forest roads and the greater beasts, the carcasses of smaller animals. A BEAR ambled out of the woods dragging a limp dead deer behind it and dropped it at the feet of the fairy with a snort. 

The fairy frantically began digging through everything that was on the floor. Dismissing the items one after another, scattering them around and throwing them behind it. Its search became more and more haphazard and agitated as time went on. It kept glancing up as if to make sure Gerlat hadn’t left yet. For Geralt’s part, he wasn’t sure if he could leave if he wanted to. The bear, having fulfilled its task, was now meandering around the clearing and was currently between Geralt and his horse. 

A crowe of success had him turning his eyes away from the bear and back to the fairy. It ran up to him, success glinting in its eyes and it held up a necklace, it looked ancient. Gold winked at him, swirled in an intricate pattern with symbols from a language he couldn’t read carved into it. The fairy held it up proudly and when Geralt didn’t move to take it, it set the necklace carefully on the floor and began to root around in its shirt and seemed to pull the stone out of nowhere. It held up the stone as if presenting it. When Geralt reached down, the fairy frantically shoved the stone protectively behind its back. Glaring accusingly at Geralt and pointily looked down at the necklace on the floor. 

“Sorry but I don’t need any jewelry.”

Eyes a little crazed, it somehow vanished the stone again and picked up the necklace. Desperately holding it out, eyes pleading for him to take it.

“I don’t need a gift, you keep it.” Well that was the WRONG thing to say.

The fairy collapsed to its knees, keening. As the high pitch sound faded from the clearing, the forest settled into a tense silence. The fairy staring blankly down at the necklace that had fallen from its arms. Its chest heaved but it didn’t seem like any air was coming through. The fairy had all but stopped moving except for the gasping breaths that didn’t seem to reach its lungs. What the fuck?! When the color drained from its face and its hands started trembling, Geralt quickly moved to pick up the necklace, not wanting the little creature to die over something so petty. He slipped it over his head and gently tilted the fairy’s head up. 

“See, I’m wearing it, I’m wearing it. Are we good?” He said quickly. 

The glazed over eyes seemed to focus on the necklace around his neck, darting up to his eyes and then back down to the necklace. Its breathing eased but still hitched as it choked down the tears that had begun to spill down its face. It shakily stood back up and ambled over to him, wrapping its arms around his ankle and hiding its face in his boot as silent sobs shook its shoulders. Not sure what to do he just stood there awkwardly waiting it out. When it had calmed down it flitted over to one of Roach’s saddlebags and settled down inside, refusing to look at Geralt. 

Confused and a still more than a little concerned by the bear that had started consuming its rejected offering, he hastened over to Roach and comforted himself with the fact that the fairy most likely wouldn’t follow him out of the forest into “human territory.”

The angry hissing coming from the saddlebag soon settled into uncomfortable silence. After a few hours he wondered if the fairy had changed its mind and decided to fly off. He flicked the cover off the pouch and caught the fairy staring down at the stone before it quickly hid it and glared up at him, eyes still red rimmed and wet. He threw the cover back over the top and left it to its sulking. This continued for the rest of the day and when they reached the edge of the forest he uncomfortably pulled Roach to a stop. He wasn’t exactly sure how to make the fairy leave without a repeat of whatever had happened earlier but anywhere except the forest was not exactly safe for magic folk. He glanced down and saw the fairy peeking its head out of the side of the bag staring warily at the edge of the forest. It wiggled out of the bag and cautiously flew over to his shoulder, making a hesitant landing as if it expected him to swat it away. Geralt just sat there, still as a statue until he felt it slip into his collar. His hair was pulled and arranged until it hid the fairy from view. Not going to tempt fate again he just carried on out of the forest. 

His grand offense was seemingly forgotten in the wake of the wonder of life outside the forest. The fairy was curious about everything. It would tug on his ear to get his attention before pointing out some inane object jabbering excitingly before retreating back into its cocoon of hair. He thought it was going to pull his ear off when they passed a field of wheat just as the sun was setting. 

“Ow...OW...I see it, I see it.” The fairy reached down and tugged on the necklace before pointing curiously at the tall stalks whose golden hue rippled in the sunlight. “No it’s not gold, stop pulling Dammit!”

He could feel it running back and forth across his shoulders as they continued down the path. Eventually it tired and he could feel it slip back into his pocket and curl up. 

When they reached the village he decided to first make a quick stop at Yennifer’s to drop off a few requested items from his hunt of the banshee before finding an inn for the night. He traveled to the edge of the village and stopped at a freshly constructed wooden house. It was just like Yennifer to have a whole house built for her when she only planned on staying until Geralt returned. He rapped on the door and was greeted with a “Where the everLIVING FUCK did you get that?!” He felt a jolt in his pocket, the fairy waking up at the loud noise. He followed her line of sight to the necklace he wore around his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really glad you all are still reading this! I'm guessing the next update will probably happen sometime this weekend!


	5. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt finds out a few interesting facts about his fairy companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...I know I said I wouldn't post again until this weekend but I finally figured out what I wanted to do with what was supposed to be the second half of the last chapter. So I am REALLY sorry for this pitiful excuse of a chapter. Please think of it as part 2 of what I posted yesterday. A REAL new chapter will most likely be posted this weekend.

“It was a gift.” He stated dismissively, trying to walk past her into the abode. She halted him with an arm across the door. 

“I don’t believe that for a second. People would kill you for that.” A pondering look came into her eyes. “I...I might kill you for it.”

Well that was a bit terrifying. Luckily she seemed to snap out of her musing rather quickly. “Irregardless, you are going to tell me where you got it and then we will take precautionary measures so whoever you stole it from won’t be able to track you here. That’s all I need, another massacre caused by a walking disaster.” She ranted, gesturing at Geralt.

“I’m telling the truth, it was a gift.” He insisted.

“Ah huh, suree it was, and I paid for this house.” She snorted. “Now let's get a nice look at it, maybe it’s a fake, that would solve all of our problems.” She reached out to grab the necklace from around his throat.

She was suddenly halted in her tracks. Vines twisted up from between the wooden floor panels and crept up her legs, thorns digging into the flesh to keep them in place. Her hand suddenly twisted violently away from the necklace and her wrist broke with a crack. She shouted out in pain and slumped against the wall.

Geralt lept forward to try and remove the vines slowly creeping further up her form before they could reach her throat. Wherever his hands reached the vines retreated. He lunged and wrapped his arms around her and, sure enough, the vines slithered quickly back into the floor, not a single one touching him. Yennefer suddenly started screaming. “Let go! Let go!! It hurts, it hurts!!” He quickly released his grip on her and where his skin had been touching hers her skin was blistered and raw. He backed away rapidly until he was pressed against the wall on the opposite side of the room, breathing heavily.

When the screaming died down from the room he realized there was another sound taking its place. A ferocious hissing coming from his pocket. He glanced down and the fairy looked livid. It’s hands were curled into claws and it was practically spitting fury. Its eyes were locked hatefully on Yennefer. Oh no...it didn’t, it couldn’t...right? It looked like it was going to leap out of his pocket and strangle her. He placed one of his hands over the pocket, sealing it in.

“What the FUCK was that?!” Yennefer was back on her feet and looked almost as mad as the little fairy did. 

“Nothing..nothing.” Geralt tried to soothe as he quickly reached into a pouch at his waist with the other hand, rooting around for something. He swore as the fairy tried to push itself through his fingers and almost succeeded in prying them apart. Damn, it was strong. He finally found what he was looking for and dusted a power over his pocket, holding his breath. Sure enough, the pressure pushing against his hands faded as the little fairy drifted back into sleep. 

“Geralt.” She said, deadly calm, her eyes stone cold. “What is in your pocket?” she approached him, face white with pain and fury.

“It’s just a fairy. It gave me the necklace.” He explained, like the gift was a sign of its innate goodness.

She jolted back a little in surprise. “Geralt, whatever is in your pocket is not a fairy but you have to get rid of it as fast as possible.”

“No.” He growled and protectively covered his pocket with a hand, instinctively twisted his body so the little fairy was as far away from Yennefer as possible. 

Yennifer pulled up a chair and gently lowered herself into it, careful to not put any pressure on her puncture and burn wounds. She began massaging her broken wrist, coaxing the bones back into place before wrapping it tightly with a long scarf that had been draped across the chair.

“Do you know what that necklace is?” She asked matter of factly. 

“Well, no.”

“That is a fey relic, old and powerful and until recently, in the possession of the fey royalty.” She looked at him meaningfully. “Which means, you’ve got a whole lot of angry fey coming after you because of that terror you have been toting around. Those golden faced bastards won’t stop until they’ve ripped you AND the “fairy” apart. So best to cut ties now and at least you might make it out alive.”

“Wait, golden faced?”

“Yeah, golden faced” She rolled her eyes as Geralt, per usual, completely missed the point. “fey royalty are easily distinguished, they’ve got these swirls across their skin, which is whyyyyy, all their crap is made of gold.” She glanced down at the necklace at that. “It’s kinda their thing.”

Geralt tried to swallow, but his throat, now completely dry just contracted painfully. He refused to glance down at his pocket, like if he didn’t look he had plausible deniability. But that didn’t stop his mind from racing. It all made sense...well, as much sense as it could. The wizards appeared right after the fairy, looking for fey. The strange abilities and the intelligence that just didn’t match any of the rumors. He HAD been deep in fey territory when he met the creature.

“Wh-” He tried to swallow again, attempting to get any sort of moisture back into his mouth. “What if it wasn’t stolen?”

“What are you talking about. Of course it was stolen. Unless you are claiming-” She glanced down at the pocket with a whole lot more concern than she had been showing previous. Was that...fear? “Geralt...please...PLEASE do not tell me you accepted a gift from the fey.”

“Maybe- I mean it was freaking out, what was I supposed to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know Geralt, maybe ANYTHING ELSE!” She started pacing back and forth across the floor. “This is still salvageable...this is still fine. I mean, you didn’t give it anything did you? I mean, it's fine if you gave it something but you didn’t GIVE it something right?” 

“Um…”

“Geralt!? You idiot!”

“I didn’t know it was a fey when I met it!” He defended himself. “But...uh...what does this mean exactly?” He asked, a bit embarrassed at his ignorance.

“Well let me be the first to give my congratulations to the happy couple. Why he would want you I’ll never know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate you all! I know this chapter was pretty plot heavy, but if you stick with it you might get some fluff next chapter :D


	6. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer makes a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I present to you all...normal sized Jaskier! As always, I love and appreciate the kudos and comments and tend to draw a lot of my ideas for the proceeding chapters from them, so thanks for all the help!

He stumbled up to his room at the inn in a daze. Barely cognizant enough to drop a few coins on the wooden counter at the base of the stairs. Enough for a few days. His pouch barely even jangled as it dropped back to his side. He had hoped the banshee would be a more profitable venture but after leaving the requested body parts at Yennefer’s he just wanted to climb into bed and sleep for a week. The talk with the leader of the village was brief and unfruitful, not even attempting to bargain, he just held out his hand for the pay and turned to leave. Noticing about halfway to the inn that he had been shortchanged by quite a bit from his promised reward. Not that he was surprised, village’s often over promised, willing to do anything to eliminate the threat to their livelihoods. But once the beast was slain and their lives returned to normal, they rationalized why his services were not worth what they had originally offered. “You took care of it so quickly, it couldn’t have been that bad. Surely not worth the fifty we promised. Not a scratch on you. You wouldn’t rob us like that right?” 

Humans were all the same. Greedy, lying, filth. Granted, he might feel differently in the morning but he was just too stunned and frustrated by his current situation to see the good in anything. He was half tempted to turn back just so he would have a target to pummel, maybe work out some of his current frustrations. As he was twisting around, his shirt pressed flush against his chest and he could feel the warmth of the creature in his pocket, settling his agitated nerves and wearily he turned back towards the inn. 

Pushing on the door to his room he winced at the high pitched wine the hinges made as it creaked open. Glancing at his pocket he slumped in relief that the creature had not awoken at the abrasive noise. He quickly stripped the bed of its blankets and bundled them into a pile, gently laying the tiny body in the center of them and heavily sat down on the edge of the bed. What was he going to do? He couldn’t get rid of him. That much was obvious. Even if he didn’t have an entire cohort of wizards after him, his previous attempts to distance himself had ended in complete failure and he didn’t think he had the heart to disappoint the creature again.

He turned to look at the fairy. It had curled into a ball and pulled the blankets tighter around itself, all he could see was a tiny foot sticking out of one end and a floof of hair out of the other. Gently grabbing the edge of the blanket, he pulled it slowly over the exposed foot and couldn’t help a smile from tugging at his lips when it murmured appreciatively at the warmth and curled even tighter beneath the blankets. Its entire head disappeared into the pile. He jerkily ran his fingers through his hair. So, he was married. Did that really change anything? It’s not like he had anyone else to go back to except Yenn and she wasn’t exactly relationship material.

The fairy or...fey obviously had responsibilities and would probably go back to the woods soon enough. And he would be left alone again...he was a bit shook at how depressed that thought made him. Not being alone had been surprisingly...nice. People tended to drift through his life like a passing river. Their faces all blurring together as the years crept along. It was depressing to think that the most stable person in his life was Yennefer and she was well known as being one of the most unstable people in existence, at least in his books. On his best days he had limited emotional capacity, which had run dry about ten seconds after he met the fairy. Sighing he stripped his armor off and laid down next to the pile of blankets. He stared blankly at the ceiling for a while until the light, slow breathing beside him pulled him into a fitful sleep. 

He woke up with a heavy weight on his chest and something soft tickling his nose. He leapt from the bed, grabbed his sword from the floor and turned in a defensive crouch toward the threat. Or at least he tried to. Mid flight, long pale arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him back onto the bed. The grip was like iron and kept him pinned down. He twisted around to glance at his captor and was greeted with the sleepy face of the fair- fey scrunching up his face in distaste at having been woken up from his slumber. Geralt’s entire body froze in tension, the fey had sprouted overnight. He just tightened his hold around Geralt and buried his face into Geralt’s neck, hot breath ghosting across his skin, sending shivers up his spine. 

“Stl tired” he murmured, lips brushing against the skin exposed on his shoulder.

Holy shit. He could talk. Geralt’s whole body slackened at the realization, bewildered at the sudden turn of events. Jaskier took full advantage of the distraction and glombed on completely to Geralt, legs tangling with his, and hands making their way into his shirt, pressing them closer together. As the hands began to work their way slowly up his torso and Geralt began sputtering in protest, the door suddenly burst open with a horrible shriek and Yennefer tumbled through. Geralt blushed at the compromising position she had found him in, his shirt pulled up mid torso and Jaskier pressed tightly against him but Yennifer ignored him, completely focused on his bedside companion. Something had shifted during the night. She wasn’t looking at the fey in anger or fear (well, maybe a little bit of fear), but something bordering desperation and determination.

Back rimrod straight and chin confidently held in the air she marched towards the bed. Geralt untangled himself from the fey and pulled his body slightly upright so he could use it to shield the fey from her gaze. She just threw him a patronizing look and circumvented the bed until she was on the side housing the fey. The fey just completely ignored her and instead began tracing his fingers up and down Geralt’s arms that were defensively positioned around him, caging him against the bed in Geralt’s bid to get between him and whatever Yennefer had planned.

“I’m here to make a deal.” She announced. If she was expecting some sort of reaction to this she was disappointed. The fey didn’t even turn around, the long finger just continued to go back and forth across Geralt’s arm. She waited a few more seconds until the silence was unbearably uncomfortable. She seemed to steel herself and then reached out to tap the creature on the shoulder. Before she could get far, Geralt caught her eye and shook his head slightly. He leaned down and caught the fey’s eyes, the sun hadn’t risen too far in the sky so his pupils were still open and round, giving him the deceptive appearance of innocence. Now that the fey was bigger he could see flecks of gold in the ring of blue. Golden faced indeed. He smiled sweetly up at Geralt. Geralt awkwardly cleared his throat and gestured toward Yenn. The fey sighed dramatically and turned to face her, pulling himself into an upright position with over exaggerated effort. He slowly dragged his gaze down her body and looked back up, bored. 

“I know what you want. Now what makes you think you have what I want?” he drawled. 

“I’ll give you anything, everything. A life debt, a favor to be repaid in the future. If I can do it, it is yours. Whenever you want. I could be a guard, or create potions for you, or be an informant. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

About halfway through her speech his eyes just glazed over and she could see his gaze shift over her shoulder to the open window. She knew she was losing him. She glanced around desperately and noticed that the fey’s hand hadn’t left Geralt when he had moved and it was now encircled lightly around Geralt’s wrist. 

“For Geralt! I’ll do the same for Geralt as well. He so much as trips on a vine I will be there to heal the scrapes and burn the forest down.” Realizing what she just said she winced. Praying she didn’t offend him by threatening his home. The fey’s gaze slid back to her but he still didn’t say anything.

Not sure what else she could offer, she offhandedly added “Of course I’d never touch Geralt. Never, he’s yours, I’d only be there to serve...platonically of course.”

Geralt started to protest but the fey just grinned, sharp canines glinting and making him appear wild and dangerous. He held his hand out.

“Deal.”

She reached out grasping the hand firmly and immediately fell to the floor choking out blood. Geralt started forward, but the fey just turned around and scooted closer to Geralt once more, pulling himself into his lap, completely unconcerned with the woman spitting blood behind him. Geralt moved to set him aside to go check on Yennefer when she began laughing. Mouth wide open, teeth stained with blood and hands encircled around her abdomen she looked completely insane. Tears started gathering in her eyes.

“Thank you. Thank you…?”

“Jaskier,” the fey answered dismissively.

“Did he” he turned to Jaskier “Did you-”

“Shhhh, still sleepy.” he tucked himself against Geralt once more and fell asleep. He turned to Yennefer for help but she was just gazing at her savior with adoration. 

“But a dragon couldn’t even-”

“Shh! He’s sleeping!” she scolded as she picked herself up shakily from the floor. Outnumbered, he just leaned back against the headboard, arms encircled around the creature asleep in his lap watching Yennefer pick her way carefully across the room, stopping every once in a while to gasp in pain or chuckle in disbelief. She left a trail of blood droplets in her wake. When she reached the door she turned around and addressed Geralt. 

“You should probably look into getting that removed.”

“What?” He looked at her in confusion. 

She looked back at him strangely, “The tracking spell you have on your shoulder. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it last night but-” she just trailed off.

Geralt waited for her to continue but she just sat there for a few minutes, eyes empty, before she started to make her way back towards the door. 

“Wait, what tracking spell.” He harshly whispered at her over Jaskier’s head.

“Tracking spell? What are you talking about? Honestly Geralt, you are so paranoid. Who would want to track you?” She scoffed and, with a waive of her hand, the door silently closed behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appreciate you guys for sticking with it! <3


	7. Trickster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt soon learns that leaving Jaskier alone with Yennifer is a VERY bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Here is another chapter mostly full of Jaskier/Geralt hyjinks.

When Geralt’s legs started to fall asleep he slowly shifted them further apart, Jaskier moved like liquid with his body and he resettled in between them without so much as a stir. Holding Jaskier to his chest as he slept was somehow different than it was with his previous lovers. Jaskier curled up in his lap should have been more uncomfortable, but they seemed to fit together perfectly. Sometime between childhood and adulthood, physical contact changes. Bodies become tense with worry and stress. A hug becomes a political game, each party anxiously assessing their internal clock to determine when it is appropriate to pull away. Touch is used as a tool, to convey pain, comfort, happiness, obligation. Every move packed with intent. With a child it is different. They mold themselves to fit you because, in that moment, you are their entire world. Jaskier obviously wasn’t a child, his sharp jawline and lithe toned body attested to that. But at the same time, when he was with Geralt he was just so open, so trusting. He reached up to brush his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. It was soft to the touch and Jaskier leaned into the hand, a low purr resonating deep in his chest. The steady vibrations and the warm body pressed against him lulled him back into sleep. 

When he awoke he was surprised to find he did not have a horrific crick in his neck. He had fallen asleep with his head tilted back over the headboard and his last thought as he drifted off was that he might wake up a cripple. He seemed to have been shifted to his side on the bed and he was currently laying on a plush pillow, his body swathed in blankets. He rubbed his neck to double check there were no knots that were going to give him trouble later. Finding none, he shifted the blankets off and was given his second surprise of the morning. His clothes were gone. He had been stripped in his sleep down to his underthings. He knew who the culprit was. Muttering under his breath he slipped out of the bed and stumbled his way over to his pack he had leaned against the wall. He let out a loud curse when he opened it only to realize the clothes previously inside were also missing. Now fully annoyed, he glanced around the room to try and find Jaskier but he was nowhere to be seen. He did catch sight of a bundle of clothes half shoved under the bed and he dropped to his knees to pull it out. They were his missing clothes, and they were dyed pink.

He heard snickering coming from the doorway and his head whipped around, catching two pairs of eyes retreating into the hallway. With a bellow he gave chase. As he skittered into the hallway, he saw a locke of black hair disappearing around the corner with Jaskier following soon after. He was going to catch those two bastards and tear them apart. They weren’t hard to follow as Jaskier was laughing so hard he was wheezing, compromising his ability to run and Geralt was gaining. Yennefer, his supposed partner in crime, realized Geralt was about to catch them and threw herself through a portal. It winked closed before Jaskier could leap through. 

“Yennefer! How could you leave me?! Traitor!” he gasped with what little air he had left, turning his wide eyes back at the rapidly approaching Witcher. When he reached the end of the hallway and realized there was nowhere else to go he dropped to his knees and lifted his hands in the air. 

“I surrender” he stated solemnly, his eyes still glinting with amusement and the tear tracks on his face still wet from his hysterical laughter.

“Jaskier you little imp! Those were my only clothes, what am I supposed to wear now?!” He seethed in the fey’s face. 

He just shrugged, “Well, I know what I would prefer.” He eyed Geralt’s exposed body appreciatively. 

“Jaskier!”

“Kidding, kidding.” He held up his hands in a placating motion. “Really Geralt, those clothes were the real crime, I mean, they were more patch than original and the smell of monster guts was practically seeped into them. Really, I was doing you a favor.” He answered completely unrepentant. 

Geralt just growled in his face. To his surprise, rather than cower in fear Jaskier reached out and cupped both sides of his face with his hands, gently pulling him to the floor before wrapping him in a hug. “Don’t worry, Yenn and I are going to market this morning to find you new clothes. At least, I thought we were before her little disappearing act, the bitch.” He muttered the last part under his breath. 

Geralt thought back with embarrassment to his near empty coin purse back in the room. “Uh Jaskier...I don’t… I mean, I can’t afford new clothes.” He forced out. 

Jaskier just cocked his head in confusion. “What do you mean? We have loads of money.” He pulled a handful of gems and gold coins from his pocket. Looking at his little hoard his face abruptly fell, “Unless, these aren’t acceptable as trade for goods.”

Geralt’s eyes had bugged out of his head at the small fortune Jaskier had unveiled. “Uh..no..that should work well enough.”

Jaskier’s grin reappeared immediately. “Good! I’ll have them send the clothes back here so you can catch up!” He pranced down the hallway to the stairs, pausing to press a kiss to Geralt cheek as he passed. Geralt grabbed his arm before he could reach the stairs and spun him around. 

“You can’t go out into public, it's not safe. You are fey, they will run you out of town, they will try to hurt you.” He tried to make his voice as earnest as possible. He didn’t want the fey agreeing to make him happy and then sneaking out later anyway. Jaskier just blinked up at him and when his eyes reopened they were human, his ears rounded and his canines shrank. The delicate golden swirls that danced across his skin faded until they were completely gone.

Jaskier gracefully swept into a courtly bow and continued on his way, a skip still in his step. Geralt retreated back to his room to fret about everything that could possibly go wrong with a fey loose in the market.

It was mid afternoon by the time he heard a knock at his door. He rushed across the room and threw the door open. Whatever Yennefer had done last night seemed to fix the hinges as it opened almost silently. A small man cowered on the other side of the door at the imposing sight of the near naked Witcher. He held out an armful of bags and stuttered, “Yo-your clothes m-mlord.” Before retreating quickly down the hallway. Gerlat heard rapid thumps as the man missed a step in his haste and tumbled down the stairs. A loud groan attested to his battered but unbroken body. 

Geralt pulled the pile of bags into the room and threw them on the bed. Honestly, how much did he buy? He quickly dumped the bags out and threw on the first outfit he saw. It glided smoothly over his skin. The black low v neck and leather pants were both extremely fine quality, soft and unrestricting. The pair of boots he unearthed had him sighing in relief, after a thorough search of his quarters he had found his old boots torn apart and buried in the fireplace. It looked like Jaskier had gone overboard and had purchased at the very least 5 complete outfits, the last being the latest in noble fashion complete with a heavy fur lined cloak. He considered bringing the last outfit with him to be returned. It was ridiculous and he would never have the opportunity to wear it. But he had no idea where Jaskier had even procured it. It would be easier just to have Jaskier return it the next day. He strapped on one of his swords and set off towards the market place.

As Jaskier had failed to tell him where they were going to be, Geralt had to wander up and down the rows of stalls in his search for them. He paused by one such stall when a familiar sparkle caught his eye. It was a small silver ring with a familiar stone in the center. The shifting colors glittering in the sunlight reminded him of the veins in the stone he had found in the river. The shopkeeper, obviously impressed by his fancy new clothes sidled up to him. 

“A lovely stone for a lovely lady, yes?” His voice dripped with suggestion. 

Geralt just grunted in return and checked the price tag. 

He left the stall with an empty purse and a light weight in his pocket. 

When he finally came across them he was grateful for Jaskier’s gaudy sense of fashion as he had almost walked right past them. Yennifer was leaning low over a booth with Jaskier hovering over her, peering over her shoulder. Their upper torsos were almost completely covered by the stall’s overhang. He moved closer, curious as to what could have caught their attention so thoroughly. He was surprised to find thin delicately twisted pieces of silver. Both chains and hooks as well as other intricate patterns. He would have thought them jewelry but there were no pendants or gems. Jaskier was talking excitedly with the merchant over Yennefer’s head while she was bent over the counter fiddling with something. She passed whatever she had over to Jaskier and he practically squealed with glee. He looked like he was fumbling with his hair when he spotted Geralt out of the corner of his eye. He turned and Geralt could see a twirling piece of silver hanging from his ear and delicately held in the crossing strands was the stone he had given him days earlier. 

“Geralt!” He shouted joyfully. He ran over and began fussing over the new clothes, smoothing them out and waxing on about how lovely they were and how well they fit. Geralt had completely tuned him out, looking on in amusement at Jaskier’s antics, so when Jaskier looked up at him expectantly, he quickly tried to rewind in his head to figure out what he was supposed to be answering. 

His silence seemed to concern Jaskier.

“You will go right?”

“Yes?” He hazarded a guess that this is the answer Jaskier wanted to hear. He must have guessed correctly as Jaskier hooted with joy and began dragging him back to the inn to “get ready.” He just hoped he hadn’t agreed to anything stupid. 

He looked like a fool. Jaskier wanted to go to a _party _. Meaning he was trussed up in those stupid noble clothes Jaskier had bought him. The shirt alone had so many buckles that he wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to get it off and the pants were just as bad. They were so tight he had almost ripped them putting them on.__

____

“They seem to be a little” he grunted as he finished pulling them up, “small.”

____

Jaskier hummed noncommittendly as he blatantly checked out Geralt’s ass. The pants stayed on.

____

Jaskier excitedly ushered him into the awaiting carriage. Roach was already hitched to the small carriage and waiting patiently in front of the inn. Geralt was about to ask Jaskier what poor soul got maimed getting her hitched up when Jaskier brushed past him cooing and rubbing Roach’s forehead, mumbling sweet nothings in her ear. Roach just nipped at his hair in return, resting her head over his shoulder and staring at Geralt as if daring him to say anything about her unusual behavior. Well, that answered that question. 

____

Apparently, while Jaskier had been flaunting his wealth in the market, a noble had taken notice and invited him to a party he was throwing at his estate that night. Jaskier, ever enthused with new things, had immediately agreed. Geralt didn’t want to ruin his fun, so the second they entered the halls he snuck off to go lean against a wall in the corner, letting Jaskier join the dance floor. He quickly lost sight of the fey in the swirling bodies. Not concerned, he let his mind wander, fiddling with the ring in his pocket absentmindedly. 

____

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt a searing pain flare across his shoulder. He clutched it with a gasp and fell to the floor. Just as quickly as it appeared, the pain leaked away. He pulled himself back to his feet and promised himself he would track down Yenn first thing in the morning to get some answers about that tracking spell. He resumed his position, rubbing his sore skin when he was approached by a snively man. He was dressed well enough but he had an aura of grease about him. The type of individual that made you want to take a hot bath after every interaction. He scuttled closer and caught Geralt by the wrist, pushing something into his hands. 

____

“My master appreciates and thanks you for your help.” His reedy voice grated against Geralt’s ears. The unpleasant man retreated back into the ballroom and disappeared into the crowd.

____

Geralt opened his hand and saw two gold coins winking up at him.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know what happened but this chapter seemed to lack both fluff and plot 0-0. So sorry for that. This story is winding down, I'm trying to decide how many chapters are left but most likely just one or two. Also, if you were a bit confused at the ending I would revisit chapter 2 :)


	8. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt gets more than a little upset when the wizards mess with Jaskier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the crazy delay. Work has been really stressful lately and I haven't been much in the mood to write. But here is the last chapter! I'm thinking I might end up adding on some chapters of a few scenes from Jaskier's perspective but this is the last official plot chapter. Special thanks to AnHellica who listened to my rambling ideas for this chapter and gave me some great ideas!

Geralt stared down at the two coins sitting unassumingly in his palm, trying to remember where he had seen them before. They had distinct scuff marks along the surface, as if they had been rubbed vigorously against something. After all, gold was a soft metal and didn’t stand up well against abuse. But they were strange markings to find on currency. Normally, the edges would be chipped from jangling around in a coin purse, but to have the surface disfigured was a bit strange. He closed his fist around the coins and they scraped lightly together. The sound sparked a memory of dirty, wrinkled fingers rubbing gold coins in his face, an unwanted hand on his shoulder. He unconsciously reached up to rub at the spot just over his shoulder blades that had begun to ache again. He had to find Jaskier. 

He pushed away violently from the wall he was leaning against and dove into the crowd, shoving people aside as he scoured the faces he passed. Geralt was hoping to sweep through the crowd quickly, but the ballroom was thick with gentry, all swirling gracefully around each other, jumping from one partner to the next like whores. He gripped at his hair with frustration. The laughing faces blurred in front of his eyes as they pranced around him. He would never find Jaskier in this mess. A feeling of helplessness built within him, his teeth grinded against one another. He clawed his way through another thicket of bodies only to find himself in the middle of the same crowd as before, another wave of hopelessness hit him. There was no time for this but he didn’t know what else to do. He finally broke through the other side and was about to dive back into the mass of writhing bodies when he saw a glint of blue flash in the corner of his eye.

He whipped around and saw Jaskier on the outskirts of the ballroom, earring flashing in the torchlight. He breathed a sigh of relief before he tensed again. Jaskier was not alone. He appeared to be in deep conversation with one of the nobles. He must have been the host of the party as he seemed comfortable with the castle’s layout. He was currently leading Jaskier towards a darkened hallway, his hand resting low on his back and his head bent, almost resting on Jaskier’s shoulder, as he whispered something in his ear. Jaskier threw his head back and laughed, loud and clear like a bell. Geralt’s initial tension flared into a burning anger. He stalked across the floor to the conversing duo and roughly grabbed the wrist resting on Jaskier’s back, squeezing and twisting it painfully as he spun the man away from Jaskier. His other arm wrapped protectively around Jaskier’s shoulders and tucked him against his side, hunching his own body to wrap more fully around Jaskier.

“Hey! What’s your deal!?” The noble seethed as he rubbed at his wrist, glaring daggers at Geralt. Geralt just glowered at the smaller man and curled his lips away from his teeth in a snarl, practically growling. The noble visibly shrunk and skittered off. 

Jaskier didn’t seem to be upset at all by his show of protectiveness, just happily leaning into Geralt’s embrace, tucking his fingers in Gerlalt’s belt loop and sighing happily at their closeness. Gerlat didn’t waste any time and quickly corralled Jaskier towards the entrance, making sure to keep the fey as hidden from view as possible. Jaskier went along willingly until he saw the entrance. At this he pouted.

“Geralt, I don’t want to leave yet, we haven’t even danced together!” he whined. He wrapped his arms around one of Geralt’s biceps and started tugging him back to the party. Geralt stumbled before setting his feet, halting Jaskier in his tracks.

“Jaskier, we have to leave, it’s not safe here the-'' He was interrupted by a tsking noise coming from the open doorway.

“Now now what is this? Don’t tell me you went and got attached, that wasn’t a part of the deal.” The old wizard scrunched his nose distastefully as he stepped into the light of the party. 

Jaskier tried to peer around Geralt’s body to see what all the fuss was about, Geralt just gently pushed him back out of the sight of the wizard. 

“Come now, be reasonable and hand him over, It's not like you can win. We have you outnumbered and we've sealed off the entire estate, no one is coming to help you. We’ll even throw in some extra gold for your troubles.” The old wizard croaked out, seeming to get a bit annoyed at the new obstacle between him and the fey. 

Geralt knew Jaskier recognized the voice this time, he could feel Jaskier’s hands curl tight into the fabric at the small of his back. He had expected Jaskier to pull away at the mention of the payment but he pressed even closer, his trust in Geralt complete. Gerlat didn’t even deign the wizard with an answer, just began backing up slowly, glancing fervently around the room for another exit, grateful it was considered coisure to wear weapons to a noble’s function. Something having to do with a show of power and wealth, even if most the nobility present currently looked like they would accidentally stab themselves or their friends if they drew the swords strapped to their waists. When he dared to take a brief glance behind him he was surprised that the ballroom had mostly cleared out. He hadn’t noticed the movement in his rush to get Jaskier out of the building. There were just a few people standing in front of each doorway. It looked like a few of the nobility intermixed with a couple wizards. The noble who had been leading Jaskier away was smirking at them from the entrance of the hallway he had almost gone through with Jaskier. 

Geralt cursed and stopped in his retreat. Jaskier, aware of the precariousness of their situation, took Gerlat’s hand and laced their fingers together, smiling up at him reassuringly before casting a dark gaze at the wizard in front of them. 

The wizard continued to address Geralt “Well, if you are not going to help us we can’t have you getting in the way.” He shot his arm up and clenched his hand in Geralt’s direction. Geralt felt his breath catch. When he tried to draw in another, his lungs didn’t respond. It was like he couldn’t remember how to inflate them. He frantically clawed at his throat and beat on his chest, anything to jump start the muscles again. His movements became more sluggish as his limbs started to fail him from lack of oxygen. His arms started to go numb and he fell to his knees, vision blurring slightly. He glanced up and saw Jaskier’s tear streaked face enter his vision. Hands brushing down his face and arms, desperately searching for the problem. Jaskier tore Geralt’s shirt open and he could see the panic in the fey’s face when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. His increasingly halting brain made the connection, Jaskier was looking for the necklace. He tried to grab it from his pocket but his arms wouldn’t obey him. He had taken the necklace off when Jaskier was distracted trying to figure out the death trap that was Geralt’s shirt. From what he knew of nobility, they had a lot of time on their hands and tended to have a particular interest in strange and rare objects. He didn’t want to risk one of them recognizing the necklace and making the connection to Jaskier, who practically exuded otherworldliness. 

With a howl of rage Jaskier launched himself at the wizard, claws extended, intent on taking his head off. The old wizard threw up a shield in front of him that Jaskier tore through with ease. A quick duck had Jaskier slicing a deep line across the wizard’s cheek rather than his neck. Spitting with fury, the fey launched forward again, the wizard holding his staff defensively in front of him was barely able to keep himself from being torn to ribbons. He was being pushed back and was bleeding from multiple scratches across his skin, mostly focused on his shoulders and face, strikes intended for his neck diverted at the last minute. Geralt was on the floor now, his knees having given out. He could see feet moving past him as the wizards previously guarding the exits slowly closed in around the fey. In their hands were chains of iron. Jaskier ignored them, intent on carving into the old man in front of him. Geralt was about to pass out when his lungs suddenly expanded and he coughed loudly, sucking in as much air as he could. He glanced up in time to see the head of the old wizard slide from his shoulders and thunk on the floor. Jaskier was covered in blood, staring down at the slain wizard with satisfaction. The other wizards were right behind him, shackles raised threateningly and Jaskier still hadn’t turned around. 

Geralt called out a weak warning and Jaskier spun around, eyes sliding past the threatening wizards circled around him to Geralt, his eyes widening in horror. Jaskier raised his arm toward the ceiling and his fingers twisted in a strange pattern. Everything slowed down. The wizards advancing on Jaskier completely stopped in their tracks and Geralt spun to look behind him at whatever had panicked Jaskier. A sword was halted inches from his face, the smirking noble’s mouth frozen open, arm muscles tense from the force of the swing. With a twitch of Jaskier’s other hand, a vine shot from the floor and pierced straight through his chest, forcing the noble’s frozen body backwards to the floor, taking the fatal sword swing with him. 

Time resumed with no warning and Jaskier stumbled, falling to the floor. He glanced up at Geralt, smiling in relief before passing out cold on the floor. The wizards advanced hesitantly toward the crumbled body. The boldest of the group gave the fey a nudge with his foot quickly backing away and when no reaction came they fell upon him, shackled him in iron, and pulled his limp body from the floor. The tallest of the group threw Jaskier over his shoulder and began to flee towards the open doorway. The rest of the wizard cohort fell in waves behind him. Some looked back in fear as Geralt drew his sword and pushed himself to his feet. He gave chase. 

With each new breath, oxygen flowed into his lungs and the numbness in his body retreated. As he ran, he yanked the necklace from his pocket and threw it around his neck. He caught up to them just as they had finished creating a portal into what looked like a dark dungeon. The first set of wizards leapt through the portal with Jaskier. The remaining ten split into two groups. One half worked to close the portal and the other summoned a large ball of fire and launched it at Geralt. He was too close to dodge and was surprised when the flames slipped around him, caressing his skin like wind tossed hair. The necklace at his neck heated. The wizards looked on in horror and quickly started throwing anything and everything they had at him. He wasn’t sure what half of the spells were supposed to do but he barely felt them as they brushed past him. His sword sliced through their bodies like butter. The necklace burned hotly against his throat.

He yelled in rage when he saw the portal wink out. He dismembered the second set of wizards with ease. One of them foolishly pulled a small dagger from his boot when he realized magic was useless. Geralt just dodged the clumsy thrust and punched the wizard in the face. He flew to the ground and landed with a pained yelp. Geralt crushed the hand holding the knife under his boot. He could feel the bones crunch beneath the sole of his shoe. Geralt leaned in close, applying his full weight onto the broken hand and ignoring the frightened whimpers of the wizard beneath him who was desperately trying to avoid the spreading blood of his fallen brethren. 

“You’re going to tell me where that portal went.” 

Jaskier woke up to hands clenched painfully in his hair, forcing his head back. He tried to lunge forward but was brought up shortly by his hands chained above his head. The Iron pressed against his skin burning and blistering him. An extra pair of hands joined the first, tilting his head up and bringing a jagged knife against his cheek. He gritted his teeth as it dug in, slicing an intricate pattern across his face. A growl resonated deep in his throat as the knife danced across his bare shoulders, carving the strange symbols across his flesh.

It was when he felt his magic start to hemorrhage from his body that all reason left his mind. He jerked against the bindings in a blind panic. Not caring when the skin around his wrists tore open and blood dripped into his hair, running in rivets down his face, joining the trails of blood streaming from the cuts on his cheeks. The wizards just backed away from his flailing body, retreating towards the door. They threw it open and were greeted with a murderous face framed in white hair. The last thing they saw was eyes flashing from yellow to black.

Once the last body hit the floor he rushed towards Jaskier, only stopping to swipe the keys to the shackles from counter housing what appeared to be torture devices. When he saw the wild look in the fey’s eyes he slowed his approach and knelt in front of him murmuring soft words of comfort in an effort to calm him down. Jaskier just jerked away from his touch, cowering against the wall. Hands twitching downward against the restraints instinctively. Geralt gently took a hold of one of the wrists and didn’t miss the shudder that worked its way up Jaskier’s entire body. Or how the shaking didn’t stop afterwards. He unlocked one wrist and then the other, placing the shaking hands back down into Jaskier’s lap. He wasn’t expecting Jaskier to immediately start tearing into his shoulders. His razor sharp nails ripped apart the flesh underneath it. Geralt immediately grabbed a hold of the wrists in a vice like grip, his hand slipping a bit from the blood still dripping down from the wrists. But the self mutilation seemed to have calmed him down, shoulders sufficiently shredded, his eyes seemed to clear of the fog of panic that had overtaken them and when he saw that it was Geralt kneeling in front of him he let out a shaking breath and then collapsed into himself sobbing so hard he choked. Geralt just gathered him into his arms and held on tight.

The sun was rising before the shaking stopped. The light filtering in through the barred windows played across Jaskier’s hair. Seeing the blood glitter ruby red in the sunlight reminded him of the trinket in his pocket. Geralt pulled out the ring he had purchased earlier. The movement jostled Jaskier and he untucked himself from Geralt’s embrace to see what he held in his hand, even now his insatiable curiosity outweighed his need for comfort. Seeing the small stone embedded in the silver he reached up and lightly brushed his fingers against the earring hanging in his hair. Geralt would have laughed at the intense look of need on Jaskier’s face if the sight of it covered in blood weren’t so sobering. Geralt unceremoniously dropped the ring into Jaskier’s hand and was rewarded with a delighted laugh, even if it came out sounding a bit strangled. Jaskier slipped it onto his pinky almost reverently before turning to smash his mouth against Geralt’s. For the first time in Geralt’s life, he felt complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who stuck with this! Hopefully it was able to satisfy at least of little of your need for Geralt/Jask fluff.


End file.
